


Find Your Way Back

by Lilyevanseviltwin



Category: Yuri!!! on ICE
Genre: Anastasia AU, Background Victuuri - Freeform, Enjoy!, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, The AU no one asked for, asdfghjkl;, but I'm writing anyways, just romance, mutual hate turns into mutual pining, not sure what else to tag this as, not the historical one where she's murdered at 17, royal au, the children's movie, yurio has amniesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilyevanseviltwin/pseuds/Lilyevanseviltwin
Summary: An Anastasia AU where Yurio is the last of the Romanovs.  He must team up with conmen Otabek Altin and Victor Nikiforov to find his family once again.





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> This all started because I was watching the movie and noticed that Yurio and Anastasia had a similar eye color. At first I just had the headcanon that Yurio was a Romanov, but it ballooned into this. Enjoy! The prolouge is told from Nikolai Plisetsky's, Yurio's grandpa point of view.

There once was a time when kings and queens ruled over the land.  A time of enchantment with elegant palaces and grand parties.  Unlike fairy tales, this time was not very long ago and very, very real. It was 1905, the age of Imperial Russia, and my son, Tsar Yakov Nicholas II, was hosting a grand ball at his Winter Palace.  It was held to celebrate the 300th anniversary of our family’s ruling.  The Palace held wonders of grandeur and splendor beyond imagination.  Gold and crystal chandeliers hung from gilded ceilings, lush carpet, marble flooring, and more rooms than anyone would care to count.

That night, the Palace seemed even more like something out of a dream.  The palace was all lit up from the inside.  People spilled out of every door, brightly colored dresses swirlled all around, guilded carriages lined up at the door, and jewels sparkling everywhere you looked.  But no one was able to outshine my youngest grandson, Yuri Anastasia.  Only three years old, his   I climbed up onto the royal dais, overlooking the whole party, and waved to my family out on the dance floor.  Yuri came rushing off the dance floor to me, earning a disapproving look from his father.  Yuri just stuck his tongue out and ran faster, making me laugh.  He ran into my arms and I held him tight.

While the night was a celebration, it was bittersweet for the two of us.  I was to go to Paris the next morning for a month and Yuri begged me not to leave.  I couldn’t avoid this trip, so to make the separation a bit easier for the both of us, I had a present made for him.  Every night before he went to sleep, we would sing a song together.  As I could not be there, I had a music box commissioned to sing to Yuri while I was away.  Yuri’s eyes lit up as I pulled the box from my pocket and wound it up.

_On the wind, cross the sea,_

_Hear this song and remember,_

_Soon you’ll be_

_Home with me_

_Once upon a December_

“Grandpa, it’s amazing!” Yuri gushed, never taking his eyes off the tiny, gilded box.

“There’s one more thing.” I put the key, a tiny, gold disk on a chain, in his hands.  “Read it.”

“Together… in… Paris,” Yuri read aloud, going slightly cross eyed trying to read the small print.  “Grandpa!  Do you really mean it?”

I chuckled.  “Of course, Yuratchka. As soon as my business is done, you may come and visit.  I’ll show you the whole city.”

For that one moment, everything was perfect.  But things were not meant to stay that way. A blast of wind burst through the doors, throwing them open. The chandeliers swayed and the lights went out.  Footsteps echoed through the ballroom, followed by gasps and glasses crashing to the floor. The crowd parted to let the mysterious figure through.  I hugged Yuri closer as the rest of the family joined us on the royal dais and the guards closed in around us.  Finally, the last people at the front of the crowd parted, revealing the party crasher.  It was none other than Jean Jacques Rasputin.  He was once an esteemed holy man who was exiled for his supposed use of dark magic and thirst for power.  Jean had spent years working his way up into the royal palace, even rumored to have sold his soul to the devil to get the power he needed to take over Russia.  When it reached the ears of the tsar that Jean was referring to himself as “King” to his followers, he was stripped of his titles and thrown out of the palace.  Since that day, he vowed his revenge on those who had taken his power from him.

Jean stopped in the middle of the ballroom, robes flowing around him.  Only my son, Yakov, dared approach him.

“How dare you return here,” Yakov challenged.

“I am your most trusted confidant, I thought I was welcome to all your parties,” replied Jean, smirking.

“Confidant?  HA!  You betrayed my trust and the trust of my family, get out!”

“You think you can banish King JJ?  Well, I banish you!  With a curse!”  Jean produced a reliquary from inside his robes, glowing green with magic, and thrust it in Yakov’s defiant face.  “Mark my words, you and your family will be wiped from the face of the Earth.  I will not rest until I see this through.” With those words, a blast of green magic hit one of the chandeliers, causing it to crash to the floor and Jean disappeared.

From then on, the spark of unrest burned through Russia causing upheaval and violence at every turn.  There were riots in the street, fights on every corner, and a constant, burning anger in the heart of every Russian.  Not long after, that anger turned towards the royal family.  We were accused of not caring about our people and bringing destruction upon our homeland.  One night, an angry mob of citizens burst through the gates of the Palace, hell bent on killing the cause of their unhappiness.  Everyone in the palace was awoken in the middle of the night and rushed to a safe house far from the revolt.  Yuri had come to find me in his terror and we were running for the carriages together when he suddenly stopped.

“My music box,” he exclaimed as he turned and ran back towards his bedroom.  I tore after him, racing to catch up and keep him from an early death.  We raced along corridors, miraculously not meeting any angry citizens with torches or weapons.  Yuri raced into his room with me just behind, grabbing for his prized possession.

“Yuratchka, we must leave,” I panted, looking desperately for a safe way out.  Pounding footsteps sounded from outside and fire flickered in the windows.  I could see no escape for us.  The footsteps were getting closer.  I was planning to push Yuri out the door and tell him to run while I kept the intruders at bay when a small servant boy ran through the door and over to a wall.

“Through here,” he said as he waved us over.  We both paused for a second, confused, when he pulled the wall open.  “We’ll use the servant entrances. Hurry!” I grabbed Yuri’s hand, not realizing that I made him drop the very thing we returned for, and pulled him along.  The door closed behind us and we raced along in the dark.

“Grandpa, he didn’t come with us,” said Yuri, distressed and unsure about what was happening.  I said nothing, only ran faster to try and suppress the sorrow I felt for the poor boy who had saved our lives.

The corridors led us out onto the frozen river just outside the palace. The ice was treacherous this time of year because of the spring thaw, but we had no other choice.  Slowly, so slowly I feared we were going to get caught despite being on the opposite side of the palace, we made our way across the ice.  We grew steadily closer to the other side and I began to speed up, knowing the ice closer to land would be thicker and safer.  Almost, we were almost safe! Then something pulled us back towards the burning palace.  There stood Jean Jacques, hand wrapped around Yuri’s wrist, Yuri struggling as hard as he could. Yuri’s hand slipped from mine and I grabbed for him.  Yuri kicked Jean hard, causing him to lose his grip and slip on the ice.  Yuri turned back towards me, but Jean grabbed his ankle, pulling him down.  Then the ice cracked.  My heart lurched. But in his surprise, Jean had released Yuri who scrambled towards me.  I pulled him into my arms and ran off the quickly breaking ice.  Once on shore, I put Yuri down and looked back to see what had become of our attacker.  I saw nothing but ice breaking apart in the freezing water.

We had missed the guarded carriages to the safe house so that was no longer a possibility.  As I was already expected in Paris, I decided to take us there, knowing we would be safer outside the country.  We made our way to the bustling train station, full of people trying to escape the violent actions of this night as we were. We arrived as the train for Paris was getting ready to leave.  I grabbed our tickets just as the train began to pull out.  We ran alongside the train hand in hand. I jumped up first to better pull Yuri up, but his hand once again slipped from mine.

“Yuratchka, grab hold,” I called, holding my hand out, but the train was picking up too much speed and Yuri couldn’t keep up.  “Yuratchka!” He was falling behind fast.  The crowd surged up as more people arrived at the station and Yuri disappeared from sight.  “Yuri, no!” I tried to jump off and find him, but the conductor held me back.  I tried again, but more men appeared and kept me back. For miles, I wouldn’t leave the steps of the train car.  Eventually, someone pulled me inside and put me inside a sleeping car.  I didn’t sleep that night, or the night after, keeping silent vigil over my lost family.  I never saw Yuri again after than night.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13 years after the Russian Revoulution, Yuri is trying to find his place in life, but that is hard when you can't remember where you're from or who you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to see Yuri's point of view! I'm a little late because work and getting ready to go to college has kept me busy, but I will try to be as on time as possible.

It had been 13 years since the attack on the Winter Palace and the beginning of the so-called revolution.  Not that it had had any real effect on the orphanage just outside of St. Petersburg.  Sure, funding had gotten a bit low over the past few years, but the orphanage had seen worse and pulled through.  Most of the children had found jobs helping the war effort in factories and some had even been recruited to fight in the Great War.  All except one. 

Yuri was an interesting child, to say the least.  Extremely bright, his bad attitude and lack of respect towards authority figures had kept him from being thrown onto the battle field and had gotten him fired from every job he got.  At 16, he was almost old enough to move out and live on his own but with no money he still relied on the orphanage for everything.  Food, clothing, housing, you name it.  This morning was no different from any other, the orphanage’s head, Tetushka[1] Yustina, standing on the steps sending the troublesome child off on yet another job hunt.  Children leaned out of every window, waving goodbye and wishing Yuri luck on his newest endeavor.  All the children there saw Yuri as sort of a big brother, something he denied at every turn but obviously loved.  Contrary to the rest of the children’s enthusiasm, Yuri waved back, scowling at all the noise.

“Now, you are to go down the path, turn left at the sign, and go to the pier,” said the elderly woman.  “Ask for Ivan at the fish factory… Are you even listening to me!”  At this point, Yuri had stuck out his tongue in response to one of the younger children who had done the same.

“Yes, Tetushka,” sighed Yuri, rolling his eyes.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side ever since you got here,” growled Yustina, grabbing Yuri by the scarf and pulling him to the gates.  “Acting like the Tsar of Russia, instead of the nameless, no account you are.  For the last thirteen years,”-here Yuri began to mouth the words along with Yustina- “I’ve fed you, I’ve clothed you- “

“You’ve put a roof over my head, I know the speech.”  Yustina glared at Yuri.

“How is it you don’t even have a _clue_ as to who you were before coming here but you can remember all that!”

“I do have a clue to- “started Yuri angrily, pulling a gold chain out from under his shirt.

“Bah, I know, _together in Paris_.  So, you want to run off to France to find your family, huh?”  Yustina laughed and pushed Yuri through the gates of the orphanage.  “Mister Yuri, it is time to take your place in life and in line.  Be grateful, too.”  With that she slammed the gates, locking Yuri out and leaving him to take responsibility for his life. 

Yuri stormed down the snowy path, steaming at the teasing words of Tetushka Yustina.  “Be grateful,” he mumbled under his breath.  “I am grateful, grateful to get away.”  Yuri continued walking, thinking of all the ways he could get Tetushka Yustina back, including, but not limited to, putting snow in her bed, stealing the key to the kitchens and using all the rations to make pirozhki, and not showing up to the fish factory at all.  This last one sounded most appealing as he reached the fork in the path.  A sign set up to show travelers pointed out where the paths led.  To the left, the sign pointed to the pier, and to the right, the sign pointed towards St. Petersburg.  If Yuri went to the left, he would be heading towards what he already knew.  A life as Yuri the Orphan, forever.  Living off a menial paycheck and always wondering what could have been.  At least it would be familiar, nothing Yuri hadn’t faced before, besides the smell of dead fish.

But to the right, St. Petersburg.  A huge city from what Yuri had heard, busy and bustling with people from all over.  In a city that large, surely there must be an opportunity for an orphan nobody.  St. Petersburg also had trains and buses that went all over.  If he worked and saved up enough, Yuri might one day be able to go to Paris and find out who he was, once and for all.  But Yuri had never even been outside the small village surrounding the orphanage, much less the country.  He didn’t even know how to speak French.  Paris was a crazy idea, even if it might hold all the answers.  Unable to decide, Yuri flopped down on the snow pile beneath the post.

“Send me a sign,” Yuri yelled towards the sky.  You’re supposed to have the plan, right?  So give me a hint, or you’re just as much of an ass as Tetushka!”

Nothing happened.  Yuri waited for a full minute, and nothing.  Yuri put his head in his hands and groaned to himself, trying to decide what to do, when he heard something move in the snow beside him.  Yuri turned around to see what was behind him and saw a full grown standard poodle with chocolate brown fur.  The dog shook some snow off her fur and put her front legs forward, wagging her tail.

“Go away,” Yuri said.  “I’m not a dog person.”  He closed his eyes and laid back in the snow, ignoring the dog.  When the poodle realized Yuri wasn’t going to play, she rushed forward and grabbed Yuri’s scarf off of him. 

“Hey!  I don’t have time to play,” Yuri yelled, lunging for his scarf.  The dog easily avoided him and ran a little further down the path, wagging her tail, egging Yuri on.  “I’ waiting for a sign.”  Yuri managed to grab one end of the scarf this time, but the dog held on tight.  For a moment, they were caught in a tug of war.  Then the scarf ripped in half.  Yuri fell back and landed in the snow drift, while the dog ran a little farther away.  On his back, Yuri saw which path the dog had started down.

“Oh great.  A stupid, slobbering dog is trying to take me to St. Petersburg.”  Yuri put his hands over his eyes, rubbing them with his palms.  “This is the best you can do?  At least send a cat next time!”  The dog started whining, then barking.  Yuri growled and rolled off the snow bank onto his feet.  He glowered at the dog who was waving her rear end in the air, taunting him with the other half of his scarf.  Yuri shoved his half of the scarf into the pocket of his severely oversized pea green coat and started down the path to the right.

Yuri’s heart beat fast with excitement and fear of the unknown, but that only made him more determined to succeed.  He just prayed that his courage wouldn’t desert him, because there was no turning back once he missed his shift at the factory.  Tetushka Yustina would definitely kill him this time if he returned with yet another fruitless day.  Besides, there had to be someone waiting for him in Paris, otherwise he wouldn’t have this necklace.  Those years spent dreaming of a better life just couldn’t be wrong.  And someone must have loved him at some point, enough to give him a clue about his past.  So one step at a time, Yuri forged ahead to St. Petersburg, dreaming of the family he had always been missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  tetushka: auntie[return to text]  
> So, what did you think? Let me know in the comments. I know it's a bit shorter than last time, but the next chapter should be a bit longer to make up for it. Hit me up on tumblr @lilyevanseviltwin. Unfortunately, I'm no artist, so this AU has no art, but I'd love to see yours! I can also answer any questions you may have!

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? Most of the rest of the story will be told from Yurio's point of view, though it may switch for a few chapters. Also, I haven't decided who will be Bartok the bat yet or even if he will be in the story. If you have suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Hit me up on tumblr @lilyevanseviltwin. I'll try to update at least every 2 weeks, but we'll see how this goes.


End file.
